


very done, kevin.

by statsvitenskap



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, mainly kevin-centric with some dashes of arnold and connor lmao, this started off being crack but ended up being really emotional WHOOPS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23528977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statsvitenskap/pseuds/statsvitenskap
Summary: arnold has an odd phrase that he likes to use around kevin. no one knows where exactly it came from.at some point or another, it starts to take over kevin’s life.
Relationships: Arnold Cunningham & Kevin Price, Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 24
Kudos: 63





	very done, kevin.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiffgeorgina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiffgeorgina/gifts).



> i kept forgetting about this fic and it wasn’t until me and my dear friend @sarahistrying were talking about our bom chatfic that i remembered it!! 
> 
> inspiration: https://tiffgeorgina.tumblr.com/post/189794573686/arnold-sees-this-once-1ce-before-going-to-uganda
> 
> thank you to @tiffgeorgina for the inspiration!! my whole heart goes out to you, and i’m sorry you had to wait so long for this. as for the rest of you, i hope you guys enjoy this total crackfic that ended up being slightly serious.

When Kevin first hops on the plane to Uganda, he becomes sick and tired of his new companion within the first ten minutes of meeting him. Not that he would ever say it to his face, of course. 

They sit beside each other, Kevin and Arnold, on the plane from Salt Lake City to Atlanta. Then they will fly to Entebbe, Uganda, where apparently, they’ll be taking a bus to Kampala and then another to the village their district is in. Kevin doesn’t bother to ask his fellow elder about any of this. With the impression Elder Cunningham has gone and made on him, he can tell he will have to pull their duo to incredible heights on his own. Elder Cunningham will only slow him down, so he won’t need to do much other than try to cease his habit of talking Kevin’s ear off and lying and all that. Kevin will succeed, even through the hardships that Heavenly Father has flung at him. Elder Cunningham and Uganda are both tests, and Kevin’s going to pass. He smiles to himself in satisfaction.

The plane’s lights are dimmed, and Elder Cunningham has calmed down significantly from earlier. He is silent, and Kevin sighs in relief- finally, peace at last. The flight attendant strolls by with her rickety cart, but even the squeaking of its wheels are less irritating than the other Elder’s grating voice at this point. “Would you like anything, sir?” she asks Kevin daintily. “Coffee?”

Kevin swallows thickly and politely declines. “Thank you, but...” He’s about to make an excuse about him being Mormon when he remembers something that Elder Cunningham told him towards the beginning of the plane ride. “Can I get an apple juice for my... friend here?” The least he can do, if he’s about to completely overshadow this guy for the next two years, is be kind to him. They aren’t going to be “friends,” but still.

Elder Cunningham lets out a quiet gasp beside him, and Kevin mentally slaps himself in the face. Looks like his companion wasn’t as asleep as he thought. As the flight attendant pours out the drink into a small cup, Kevin takes it and hands to his seat partner, who beams in the dim light. “ _ Very _ done, Kevin,” he whisper-shouts, and both Kevin and the flight attendant look at Elder Cunningham funny. 

The flight attendant turns to the next person on the plane, asking if they would like a drink, and Kevin frowns. There are so many things that Kevin should address about that sentence, but he blames half of them on the other elder’s drowsiness.  _ He’s just tired,  _ Kevin reminds himself. Nevertheless, he feels obligated to correct something about it. “Don’t call me that, Elder,” he whispers, leaning in so Elder Cunningham can hear him. “We may know each other’s first names, but we are on our mission. We can’t use them so... effortlessly like that.”

Elder Cunningham grins again and sends Kevin a thumbs-up. “You got it, buddy!” Kevin sighs and looks away, at least glad that his companion is keeping his mouth busy by sipping at his drink. He doesn’t think of the conversation as any more than a weird incident and an isolated one, at that.

In fact, it isn’t until after the Mission President officially ex-communicates all of District Nine that Kevin lets the event cross his mind again.

Somehow, the District Nine Elders have all agreed to Kevin's on-the-spot declaration of independence from the Church, and here they are, all sitting solemnly in the mission hut. The excitement of not being Mormons anymore has worn off; after all, most of their lives (or at least, Kevin's life) had more or less revolved around the church. Without it, they're just a bunch of nineteen-year-old boys who don't want to admit the fact that they miss their families already and have no idea where to begin with what they're doing now. "So what now?" asks the boy he remembers as being Elder Michaels. Elder McKinley, who sits primly on the ratty old couch beside where Kevin is standing, sighs and shrugs. 

"I don't know," he mumbles in a disappointed manner, wringing his hands, and every Elder's face falls. What has Kevin gotten them into? He glances over at Elder Cunningham- no, Arnold- whom he catches staring. Arnold doesn't look away in embarrassment. Instead, he raises his brows, as if prompting Kevin to say something. What is Kevin supposed to say? He's the one who got them into this anyways, it's his fault.

"Let's start with something small," he blurts without thinking. All the other elders turn their heads over to him expectantly, and suddenly, eight pairs of eyes are on him. Some are hopeful, others distrusting, and the wave of emotions that suddenly rushes through him overwhelms him. Kevin remembers how not too long ago, he'd be basking in attention like this, but for some reason, he just wants to fade away into one of the walls and let everyone forget about his words. He glances behind him at Arnold, who nods, his eyes shining, and Kevin thinks that maybe it won't be so bad if he says something wrong. At least Arnold will be there for him. He's never had someone unconditionally support him through even his failures, not even his parents, and that realization makes his heart ache. 

"Like what?" Elder Neeley asks monotonously, leaning his head onto his hands. The other boys all murmur in agreement. They don't know how to do much, do they? All their lives, they've been living their lives in American households where they've never had to worry about their next meals or AIDS or vicious generals who seemed to turn to their side way too easily. 

"Well, we could start with the Book of Arnold," Kevin suggests, gesturing to Arnold, who silently nods again. It's the longest Kevin has ever seen him go without speaking. "Maybe we could write it, in detail. You guys saw the hope it gave these people."

"The least we can do is spread that hope to others," Elder McKinley finishes for him, nodding in agreement. "And what can we do until then?" 

Kevin shrugs. "We planned on building a church at some point, right?" He remembers reading about that somewhere at the Mission Training Center; if your district got enough baptisms in an area with little Mormons, you'd build a church so that when you and your fellow Elders left, the Mormons still there could continue their pursuit of Heavenly Father. Of course, he figures the Ugandans will be worshipping Moroni from the Starship Enterprise instead, or something, but it's the same gesture.

"Where would we get the supplies?"

"We can see what people here build their homes out of. Start with that," Kevin's saying things that make sense in his head but probably don't make sense out loud. Arnold seems to sense his anxiety and steps forward to squeeze his arm comfortingly.

"Very done, Kevin," he says and takes over for him. Arnold starts speaking as Kevin retreats into himself, beginning to flush red, though whether it's with embarrassment and gratefulness, he doesn't know. His companion's words fade into the background as Kevin's head begins to rattle with uncertain thoughts. He doesn't let the last three words Arnold said faze him, choosing to bury himself in his overthinking of the situation.

The words seem to repeat themselves hundreds of times over during his time in Uganda. Every time Kevin does something that Arnold sees as “good”, which is nearly everything he does considering Arnold thinks he’s the best thing in the world since Star Wars or Band-Aids, he repeats those three words.

Kevin grabs something from the high shelf for Nabulungi one morning, since he’s the only one who can reach it, and Arnold pops his head through the doorway, smiling like a maniac. “Very done, Kevin!”

Kevin helps wrangle the children during Sunday school one night and finds that they really like him. Arnold, who was trying to do the same, albeit unsuccessfully, gives him a pat on the back.  _ “Very  _ done, Kevin!”

Kevin helps Elder McKinley with one (one!) tap routine one time, and they accidentally end up in a rather compromising position. While they’re lying there, still in shock and blushing their faces off, Arnold passes by the open door and yells,  _ “VERY DONE, KEVIN!”  _ When he hears the jovial laughter of the other elders and one shouting, “Finally!” Kevin puts his head in his hands as Connor laughs and cradles him. They both go pink in the face, and Kevin, amidst his reluctant giggles, can’t think of anything but the expression on Connor’s face, much less his companion’s face.

After weeks of being in Uganda, he begins to understand that "Very done, Kevin" is just another one of Arnold's favorite phrases, so he starts to get used to it. Just like he gets used to Poptarts rustling in the kitchen at three in the morning, or sleeping on the couch because Nabulungi and Arnold locked him out for the third time that week, or Connor singing in the shower and sometimes pulling Kevin along, or the slow trickling of letters from home and later on, a complete lack of them.

(He tries to convince himself it doesn’t hurt. He never does, but every time Arnold finds him in their room, clutching one of the first letters that had been sent, Arnold says, “Very done, Kevin,” in a comforting tone. Somehow, it reminds him of everything they’ve done here, and it makes him feel better.)

However, Arnold is the only one to ever use the phrase for a long time- in fact, it's been long enough for Kevin to have seen at  _ least  _ five of his fellow elders' dicks on accident, which is around the four month mark or so. James Church catches Kevin on the couch, Connor snuggled into his chest, and sends him a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Very done, Kevin," he says, wiggling his eyebrows and taking a sip of coffee. 

His weary mind can't think of a comeback better than "You're Mormon," to which James snorts and waves him off. It’s only the beginning of an era.

Somehow, he finds that the other elders saying it is more annoying than just Arnold. On game night, Poptarts and Church sit on the couch with interlocked hands and say sarcastically in unison, “Very done, Kevin,” when Kevin  _ finally  _ beats undefeated Davis in Monopoly and  _ doesn’t actually flip over the table for once. _

Michael Michaels beats Kevin during a one-on-one volleyball match- at the end, when Kevin jokingly snarks about his full name, he slaps Kevin’s back, laughing. “ _ Very  _ done, Kevin!”

“Do you guys know where that’s from?” Arnold asks one morning, after Neeley lightly punches Kevin in the shoulder and says those same three words. Kevin looks around blankly, as the elders all shrug, and a look of amazement dawns on Arnold as he starts giggling like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

The same fact floats around Kevin’s head for a while- he doesn’t know where “Very done, Kevin” comes from. He’d always thought it was just another of Arnold’s quirks, but apparently it came from something outside of that. It isn’t long before he forgets about it and lets it float around his head idly, but every so often it will float back up to the forefront of his mind again. The words themselves may not annoy Kevin anymore, but the fact that he doesn’t know where it came from sure does. 

But life goes on, and soon even Mafala, Gotswana, and hell, even the kids are saying the now infamous phrase. With the rate at which the elders are saying it, it only makes sense that it would pass on to the villagers, even if they don’t know where it came from either. Arnold giggles softly every time someone other than him says it, and it confuses Kevin- suddenly, he really wants to know where it came from. 

He pulls Arnold behind the mission house’s tool shed one sweltering afternoon, when Arnold is sweating buckets. “Buddy,” he groans, “You can’t save this until we’re inside?” 

Kevin clutches Arnold’s wrist, and he stares down at Kevin’s hand on his arm. With the rate at which he’s sweating, he could slip out of his friend’s grip at any moment. “Arnold,” Kevin growls, and Arnold looks up to see Kevin glaring lasers into his face. Of course, he’s grown used to Kevin’s death glare by now. “Where is it from.”

“Where’s what from?” Arnold asks, his voice laced with weariness. 

“Very done, Kevin. What does it mean?” Kevin shakes Arnold’s arm vigorously, and he wobbles before cracking a grin.

“You’re kidding. That’s what all this is about?” 

“Yes!” Kevin’s growing impatient now, and he’s sure Arnold can see it. His companion, however, doesn’t budge. Instead, he shrugs nonchalantly, though his smile gives everything away. “Dammit,” Kevin mumbles, and Arnold raises his eyebrows as though scolding him. 

In reply, Kevin only tightens his grip, and Arnold winces before beginning to pull Kevin’s arm up towards his face. It isn’t until he’s halfway there that Kevin realizes what he’s about to do. “You wouldn’t,” he hisses, as Arnold sticks out his tongue and leans his face down as though to touch it to Kevin’s hand. It takes around five more seconds for Arnold’s tongue to be around a couple inches away from Kevin’s hand, and it’s then that Kevin pulls away, whining. “Fuck you,” he mumbles, and Arnold grins mischievously. “...don’t do it.”

“ _ Very _ done, Kevin.”

“FUCK!”

The same instance repeats itself over, until finally Kevin doesn’t want to know about the origins of “Very done, Kevin” anymore. He lets the itch ache in his mind until it fades, and as their mission comes to a close, Connor McKinley finally says the words during a rather inappropriate time. 

They’re bare in bed, still panting from the activities of minutes prior, and Kevin’s breathing is starting to slow as Connor slinks his arms around him. “That was good,” Kevin mumbles into Connor’s shoulder, nuzzling into his body’s warmth.

“Very done, Kevin,” Connor replies, his face muffled by Kevin’s chest. He leans up and kisses his partner on the chin only to see a puzzled look in Kevin’s eyes.

“Did you really just...?” Kevin tries to hold back a disbelieving grin. Of all the times Connor could have said the phrase for the first time, it was now. 

“Well, it fit, didn’t it?” Connor giggles and ran his fingers through Kevin’s hair as he spoke. “Better late than never, I suppose. You don’t mind, do you?” 

Kevin leans into his partner’s touch, humming nonchalantly. “Guess not. Not when it’s you, at least.” At this, his boyfriend snorts, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. Soon, the only sound in the night was that of the crickets singing outside and distant songs of the Ugandans in the village far away. Kevin observes as the boy in his arms lets his weary eyes fall closed, and after a few minutes, he let his own eyes shut as well.

So life goes on, as it always does, only this time there’s a spattering of that phrase from Connor as well as everyone else. It’s funny how the former District Leader withheld himself from saying the phrase for so long. Kevin supposes it’s thanks to his old job of essentially stifling any immaturity from a bunch of nineteen-year-old boys. Unfortunately for Connor’s “employers”, Connor ended up openly gay and in love with the former Mormon poster boy, so at that point, there was really no need to stifle anyone’s so-called immaturity.

He doesn’t ask Arnold about the origins of “Very done, Kevin” again. All too soon, all eight of the boys are standing and struggling not to tear up as they say their goodbyes to this haven they’ve somehow formed in what was once an ex-communicated group of missionaries. Somewhere along the way, they turned into a family, and it was causing its repercussions as they start to realize that their family would now be torn apart. Kevin takes a couple extra seconds himself to melt into Mafala’s fatherly embrace, to grasp Gotswana’s scrawny hand, to kiss Nabulungi on both her cheeks and finally let the tears fall as he steps into the jeep. 

“Are you ready?” the driver asks the eight of them. Through teary eyes and watery words, all eight of them manage to agree. Their two years are over. No one will come back to Uganda again, leaving everyone who was a part of it all with only the memory of the tight-knit community they had formed together. 

Kevin sobs roughly and leans into Arnold, who rubs his back. “The kids won’t remember me,” he mumbles, trying to choke back his tears, and when Arnold hears that, his breath hitches. 

In a shaky voice, he tries to comfort Kevin one last time. “You changed their lives, buddy.”

“No,” Kevin sits up then, blinking away tears. “We did. All of us.”

“We did something incredible,” says Poptarts- no, Chris Thomas- from the front seat. “And it wasn’t just us. It was the villagers too.”

“They showed us a different perspective,” says Kevin, his heart pounding. Hot tears sting at his eyes again and he chokes, not finishing the rest of his sentence. The other boys begin to tear up again, but a few of them smile at the thought.

Arnold, whose red eyes mirror his own at this point, swipes at a tear running down his own cheek. “Very done, Kevin,” he says to his best friend for the last time while they’re in Africa. “I love you, buddy.” He leans in for a hug, and Kevin gladly obliges, his heart and voice too weak with sorrow to express anything else.

In the end, no one really tells Kevin what “Very done, Kevin” means. Not even Arnold, who he still calls every day, or Connor, who he follows on Instagram and makes plans to go to New York with someday. He finds out on his own. Of course, that’s not before he starts saying the words to himself.

It’s not a little known fact that he misses his friends. Every day, it hurts not to wake up beside somebody, anybody, and laugh at some dumb slapstick joke one of them had made, or groan at Arnold’s antics, or cheer at the villagers’ awe-inducing dancing. His therapist that his parents got for him asks why exactly he said “Very done, Kevin!” in exasperation when he bumped his head on a pole while in a rush to his next class, and the only thing he can do is shrug. “It’s what they would have done,” he says, leaving out the fact that it’s become so pervasive that he simply can’t do anything anymore without mumbling it under his breath. She raises a prim eyebrow at his words, but when he stays silent, she moves on to the next topic.

It’s right after this therapy session that he’s scrolling through Instagram, when on his Explore page, he sees what looks to be a funny meme. He smiles and taps it, and it grows to fit the screen.

It’s a screenshot of a Tumblr post. It’s a poor-quality picture of a child’s quiz, probably, marked 9 out of 10. The name Kevin Mound is written in the top right corner, and underneath it...

...well, he doesn’t even need to say what’s underneath it. He slams his phone to his lap in angry realization, before picking it back up and furiously sending the post to @arniecunningham. “OH MY GOD” is all he writes, as he waits for a congratulatory message of some kind, like “hey!!! you found it!!!!” or something.

Instead, Arnold likes the message and begins typing. It’s either a really long message or he keeps erasing it, because Kevin waits for what feels like hours as he takes the Uber back to his college dorms. His Uber driver glances over, before rolling their eyes and continuing the trip.

Finally, Arnold sends him a message and his breath hitches, but whether it’s in exhilaration or fury, he can’t tell.

“you found it!! VERY done, kevin.”

And Kevin Price nearly throws his phone out the window.


End file.
